


the heart is hard to translate

by aegious



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Red String of Fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23134336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegious/pseuds/aegious
Summary: "Hey old man," Mitsuki calls, eyebrows raised. Nagi's arm is still protectively draped across his shoulder. "You finished eating yet? Come watch with us!""Yes!" Nagi nods, his otaku brain as single-minded as ever. "It'll be a Kokona party!"The strings tied around Yamato's finger pull at him, begging him to get closer.He scratches at his finger until his nails leave behind red, angry marks.Yamato can see the strings that bind people to each other.
Relationships: Izumi Mitsuki/Nikaidou Yamato/Rokuya Nagi
Kudos: 52
Collections: Pythagoras Trio Zine





	the heart is hard to translate

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i had the privilege of participating in the [pythag trio zine!](https://twitter.com/pythagtriozine) i'm excited to finally share my piece! thank you to the mod team for the zine for putting together such a beautiful compilation of work and for creating such a fun project ^^

Yamato fiddles with the red strings wrapped around his finger. They seem tighter recently, and the more he tugs at them, the more they constrict around him.

Figures—he can’t get them off, no matter what he tries.

Nagi is practically sitting on top of Mitsuki as they watch the latest episode of _Magical★Kokona,_ and though Mitsuki grumbles and pushes and tugs at Nagi, there’s still a softness in his tone.

“Nagi, you’re squishing me!” But Mitsuki laughs and Nagi joins him, and there’s some kind of harmony to it that has Yamato pulling at those damn strings again. As expected, they don’t budge.

“Oh, _sorry_ ,” Nagi whines, totally unapologetic even as he wiggles around so that he’s no longer sandwiching Mitsuki between himself and the sofa.

“It’s just anime,” Mitsuki scolds with the matter-of-fact, no-nonsense tone of a mother of six. “There’ll be reruns.”

Nagi grips at Mitsuki’s shoulders. “You still don’t understand! It is my duty as Kokona’s fan to watch every episode as it airs!”

Mitsuki snorts and pats Nagi’s head. It’s gentle, and Yamato finds himself leaning over the table, just a little bit closer. “Sure, but if you’re not quiet you’ll miss what they’re saying.”

“Oh, no!” Nagi cries, throwing an arm around Mitsuki as if he’s a lifeline. Yamato’s fingers curl, nails scratching across the table.

When he realizes what he’s doing, he jerks upright, the chair under him scraping the wooden floor with an awful screech. Mitsuki and Nagi jump, startled by the noise, and when they turn to face him Yamato knows he’s been caught watching them.

“Hey old man,” Mitsuki calls, eyebrows raised. Nagi’s arm is still protectively draped across his shoulder. “You finished eating yet? Come watch with us!”

“Yes!” Nagi nods, his otaku brain as single-minded as ever. “It’ll be a Kokona party!”

Yamato glances down at his half-eaten leftovers, reheated pizza from last night. He’d completely forgotten about it. “I’m not done.”

“But it’s a new episode of _MagiKona_ ,” Nagi counters, his earnest pout making Yamato’s heart skip a beat.

His resolve falters. The strings tied around his fingers pull at him, begging him to get closer.

He scratches at his finger until his nails leave behind red, angry marks. “Can’t; I have to study my script for the shoot tomorrow. It’s a big movie, and all.”

Mitsuki frowns and Nagi’s shoulders fall, but Yamato squeezes his eyes shut and pushes himself up from the table, ignoring them entirely even as his entire consciousness is fixated on them.

Mitsuki huffs. “Well, whatever. Come on, Nagi, the commercial break’s over.”

Nagi cries out, and the sofa creaks as he readjusts his position. A short instrumental version of the _Magical★Kokona_ theme song plays, and then Nagi’s completely silent as he lets himself be absorbed by anime.

Yamato takes the opportunity to rush past them and to his room, scooping up his half-drunk bottle of beer as he flees. He’ll need it to scrub the memory of them from his mind.

* * *

Yamato rubs at his temples as he opens the door to the dorms. Shooting for a movie is exhausting; working alongside Yuki and Gaku is even more exhausting. Doing both at the same time…

He needs a drink.

Before he can make his way into the kitchen, he spots Tamaki’s head poking out from behind the couch, long hair draped messily over the arm of the chair and a leg hanging over the backside. He probably hasn’t done his homework yet, and Yamato is sure Iori will get onto him about that soon enough, but none of that really matters to him. Yamato is content to let Tamaki laze around. After all, he’s no better.

He makes his way toward the couch and opens his mouth to say hi, but he stops in his tracks when a phone buzzes loudly and Tamaki practically throws himself upright.

Yamato is perfectly visible from the couch now, but Tamaki ignores him as his thumbs fly over his phone keyboard, totally absorbed in his text conversation. His eyes are alight with an enthusiasm he only shows when pudding is involved, his tongue poking out at the corner of his lips.

The red string on Tamaki’s finger pulls every which way as he types, the long thread looping across the floor and back out the door Yamato came in through. He doesn’t understand how Tamaki can just ignore the glaring red and the way it knots itself as he moves.

Then again, it’s not like Tamaki, or anyone else for that matter, can even see the string.

An electronic _whoosh_ sounds from the phone, and finally Tamaki raises his head to find Yamato standing right in front of him, arms folded across his chest as he appraises him.

“I wasn’t doing anything weird,” Tamaki protests without any hint of pretense.

Yamato raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t say you were.”

“You were gonna.” Tamaki tosses his phone to the side. “Mikki and Nagicchi are in Mikki’s room.”

Yamato’s heart stutters, and he glances to the side to avoid Tamaki’s knowing gaze. “Why would I care where they are?”

Tamaki hums, reaching out to fiddle with his phone. His red string tugs across his lap as his fingers tap on the screen. “No reason.”

The phone buzzes again and Tamaki practically dives for it, his hands gripping tightly at its dirty case. He smiles as he reads, something soft and genuine in a way Yamato doesn’t expect. He realizes then that Tamaki is the furthest thing from conversation that he’s gonna get right now.

Yamato scoffs and turns away. “I’m gonna go take a nap.” He raises a hand in parting and Tamaki grunts what might be considered acknowledgement but probably isn’t. He’s far too invested in his phone.

As he passes by Mitsuki’s room, he can hear muffled voices from inside. His pace slows to a halt outside the door, hesitating even while his mind screams at his legs to keep moving. He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t even let himself entertain these thoughts.

But the door swings open before Yamato can get himself moving again, and he’s caught staring at Nagi like a deer in headlights.

“Yamato!” he gasps, already reaching out for him. Yamato doesn’t dodge in time, and Nagi’s fingers are warm as they wrap around his arm, holding him firmly in place. “You’re just in time!”

“In time for what?” he grumbles, trying his best to sound uninterested.

Nagi grins, and Yamato’s chest aches. “In time for you being here!”

Without even letting Yamato protest, Nagi drags him into the room and slams the door shut behind them, effectively trapping him in the one place he should never be.

He swallows.

Mitsuki is on the floor, PS3 controller in one hand but the game on the TV forgotten. Instead, he keeps his focus on Yamato, watching him carefully as Nagi ushers him further into the room. He looks him over with a raised eyebrow. “Tough day on the set?”

Yamato stares up at the ceiling and scratches at his neck. “Something like that.”

Mitsuki shuffles to the side and pats the floor beside him. Nagi pushes Yamato down to sit in that spot before promptly taking the other side and smushing Yamato between them.

It’s not uncomfortable, but Yamato doesn’t want to linger on that dangerous thought.

Nagi doesn’t waste time unpausing the game, the bright pink menu screen sliding away to reveal one of the _Magical★Kokona_ RPGs Nagi’s been obsessing about recently. It’s surprisingly high quality, with beautifully crafted 3D models and stunning visuals. Kokona dashes across the screen as Mitsuki mashes buttons, the wand producing glitter effects as she attacks.

The only sound in the room comes from the TV until Mitsuki loses the battle and the screen turns dark, a message of defeat mocking them. Mitsuki sighs and chooses the option to restart the battle, narrowing his eyes at the screen as he’s taken back to the beginning of it.

“You’ve been avoiding us lately,” Mitsuki says without pretense. Just like him to rip the band-aid off without letting Yamato’s heart prepare itself.

“What has been troubling you, Yamato?” Nagi follows up, leaning just slightly into Yamato’s arm, probably unconsciously. Yamato is too aware of it for something that doesn’t even mean anything.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he starts, keeping his voice even and distant the best he can. “Onii-san’s been pretty tired lately—”

“The shooting started last week,” Mitsuki points out. “You’ve been avoiding us way longer than that. Cut the bullshit.”

Yamato frowns. “Why would you think I’m avoiding you?”

Nagi drapes himself across Yamato’s shoulder much more pointedly. When he speaks, it’s breathy and in his ear. “You have barely said a word to us, and you keep running away.”

Mitsuki groans and throws his hands up in exasperation, dropping the controller as he loses the battle for the second time. His red string pulls across Yamato’s lap and tugs his own body closer, a feat almost impossible to resist at this proximity.

“Oh, Mitsuki, you did your best!” Nagi reaches across Yamato’s lap and pats Mitsuki’s head. His string catches on Yamato’s nose, and it’s all he can do not to blow it away. “It took me two days to complete this dungeon!”

“It’s definitely not gonna take me that long to beat this guy,” Mitsuki grumbles, hunching over under Nagi’s touch.

Nagi is still too close for Yamato’s comfort as he scrutinizes the screen. “Your party is not effective, and your weapons haven’t been tempered properly. It is no wonder why you cannot beat him.” He shakes his head as if in mourning.

“Shut up.” Mitsuki’s lips turn down as he focuses on reconfiguring his team. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“I have more experience than you,” Nagi points out with an insincere pout. “Only Tamaki has beaten me in this regard. Although Sougo was quite brutal, himself.”

“Am I the only one who hasn’t been forced to play this game?” Yamato asks, peering at Nagi out of the corner of his eye. He refuses to look at him directly.

“You have not been here,” is Nagi’s response. It’s short and clipped and if Yamato reads between the lines, hurt.

Mitsuki confirms his settings and starts the battle again, relaxing back into Yamato’s side and effectively squishing him between the last two people he should be squished between. “Seriously, what’s been up with you lately? We miss you.”

Yamato can’t help but glance at the strings tied around Nagi’s and Mitsuki’s fingers. He wants to protest, tell them that the only reason they miss him is because of those damn strings forcing them together, that without them they’d have no connection whatsoever. That all the things they feel right now are completely fake.

He says none of that.

“I’ve just been busy, that’s all.” He shifts on the ground, trying to subtly push them off, but they only fall deeper into him. His heart races under their weight, and he’s sure they can feel how hot he is right now.

“Oh, you are lying,” Nagi says, mouth still too close to Yamato’s ear. “Even when we try so hard to share our feelings with you.”

“Feelings?” Yamato says before he can stop himself. He bites his lip hard enough that it draws blood. This is only going to invite disaster.

“Haven’t you noticed by now?” Mitsuki says, still mashing away at the controller as the dungeon boss whittles down the party’s HP. He grits his teeth and forces out the next words in between combos. “We like you. We’ve been trying to get closer to you.”

“But you keep pushing us away,” Nagi finishes. “Even though we think you like us, too.”

“What’s up with that?” Mitsuki asks as the screen goes dark again and the Game Over screen fades in. “You do like us, don’t you?”

Yamato’s throat closes up. He can’t exactly deny it, not when they’re close enough to know exactly what they’re doing to him. But he doesn’t know what to say otherwise. These feelings aren’t real; not for him, not for them. It’s all because of the stupid red strings that keep screwing with their emotions.

If they had a choice in the matter, they never would have chosen him, after all.

He coughs and turns his head down, the only direction where one of them isn’t. “It’s not that… I don’t like you but…”

“Then what’s the big deal?” Mitsuki demands as he rearranges options and settings for each of his party members to maximize their strengths and utility. “Why are you being such a brat about this?”

“A br—?!” Yamato cuts himself off and shakes his head, deciding not to comment on his choice of words. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Nagi says. He pokes a finger into Yamato’s cheek, red string dangling off of it and connecting firmly to Yamato’s. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, Yamato.”

Yamato clears his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. “Look, you guys don’t wanna be with me. Just trust me.” He decides not to mention the strings that take away their ability to choose otherwise.

“We can decide that for ourselves,” Nagi says as Mitsuki begins the battle one more time. “And we have already done so. We want to be with you.”

“Even if you are a pain in the ass,” Mitsuki adds.

“But—”

“Shut up.” Mitsuki reaches over and presses a finger to Yamato’s lips. His string tickles Yamato’s chin. “Do you like us?”

Yamato nods reluctantly.

“Do you want to be with us?” Nagi asks this time. Yamato nods again. He wants to protest, but Mitsuki’s finger is getting in the way of that.

“Then let’s just… try it, okay?” Mitsuki’s voice comes out softer this time, gentler. Insecure.

“Please,” Nagi adds.

Yamato stares at the two strings connected to his finger. They don’t know the truth, that they never had a choice to begin with.

But even so—

He pries Mitsuki’s finger from his lips. “Fine. We’ll try it.”

They don’t know the truth, but they don’t seem to care, either. They’re destined to be together, after all. And maybe if they’re willing to play into fate’s hands, Yamato can, too.

“Was that so hard?” Mitsuki smirks, huffing out a chuckle and leaning back into Yamato as he continues the battle.

Nagi throws his arms around Yamato, tangling all three of their strings together. Not that they would know. “Oh, I was right!”

What destiny has in store for them… it’s a little cliché, and he’s more than a little scared, but in this room where it’s hard to breathe and harder still to hide his feelings, he can’t deny fate anymore.

The boss deals a killing blow on the screen, and Mitsuki cries out indignantly.

“You will never beat it this way,” Nagi laughs, lighter and happier than before.

“Oh, shut up!”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/aegious)


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